All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.
By the gift of grace in ☩ Christ Jesus, God makes you righteous.
Receive with glad hearts the forgiveness of all your sins.
Amen.

The day is finally here. We can see the end of this phase of our project coming to an end. There is fresh paint on the walls. New lights. New carpet. Beautiful wood beams. A refreshed dais for the altar, pulpit and baptismal font. New communion rails. A new platform for the band and choir with plenty of outlets to power our instruments without tripping a circuit breaker or causing a hum in the sound system. A beautiful media desk to accommodate the new technology it takes to stream our worship. So much light spilling out of the room that we can read our bulletins, even in the shadows.

The deadline is in place, but we’re cutting the ribbon even though contractors will continue to work after Sunday morning. There are still some holes to cover with access panels. The communion rails need to be stained. More cables need to be run. 

And while we’ve tried to be careful in our new space, accidents happen. There are already scuffs on the new paint and dings in the plaster before most people have gotten to see the space as new.

The fact is, our Sanctuary, like us, will always be in a state of change and growth. This weekend we’ll celebrate we’ve reached a milestone, and we’ll move onto the next phase of our Share the Light building project. Meanwhile, we will continue to live in and love our worship space. Eventually, someone will spill their coffee. Someone will crush a cheerio on the floor. On Christmas Eve, despite our best efforts, wax from one of the candles will drip into the carpet. Chairs will scrape against the wall and we’ll start to see the lines along with the paint that go along with everyday use.

We have a ribbon-cutting for ourselves during worship every Sunday. We confess our sins, admitting to all our spills and cracks. And at the end, the celebrant offers an absolution like the one at the top of the page, refreshing us, renewing us, and preparing us for another week of living. 

Even while we’re confessing and being forgiven, new cracks are forming. Because we’re human. We can’t help it. But we have grace. Jesus knows who we are, and loves us unconditionally. That’s not to say we’re supposed to go around purposely trying to bash holes in the plaster, but sometimes we do that, too, and Jesus will walk with us while we rebuild ourselves.

Rebuilding alongside you,

John Johns, Music Director

I was six years old when Al-Qaeda flew two commercial flights into the World Trade Center, killing nearly three thousand people. I do not remember 9/11, but I remember what I believe was the following day. My first-grade teacher tried to talk about the horrific event with the class by sitting us down on the carpet and showing us a newspaper. But how does a first grader compute a terrorist attack? Overall, I remember knowing what happened, but I didn’t comprehend the gravity of that day.  

Though I do not remember the exact day, I grew up in a post 9/11 world in which its anniversary was a nationwide day of mourning and solemnity, as it was still so fresh. I watched us go to war against terrorism, witnessed political discourse over the Patriot Act, waited in long lines through TSA and took my shoes off at the airport. When talking with church staff about this, I’ve learned that parts of my everyday world are post-9/11; and for me, it’s just normal, such as barriers in front of government buildings and businesses that prevent people from driving into them. 

Every generation passes a new world down to the next- a world shaped by shared experiences of a generation and experiences that have created a shared ideology that has formed the world as we know it. Now, generation Z has no memory of 9/11 and the oldest of them are now registered voters. 

When I think of this reality, I am reminded of how the church lives into the communion of the saints. We inherit the traditions and theological thoughts of generations. We are shaped by them. We delight in them. And yet, we reform and live into what is current. We light candles in our sanctuary when the tradition originates from not having light bulbs, yet, we have dozens of people every Sunday morning that livestream our worship service through the digital universe. 

I say all of this because right now we are living in a world in which 9/11 is beginning to be a history lesson. The war in Afghanistan has come to an end, and though 9/11 touched all aspects of society, we have a generation of people, including voters, that can only think of 9/11 as a historical event to imagine in one’s head, not an experience to remember. So now, the world must begin embracing what it means to live in the communion of saints in order to not simply remember, but also come into the knowledge of 9/11.  

In the aftermath of 9/11, society mourned news on the television screen. Others knew 9/11 more intimately as they grieved the loss of loved ones. As we grappled from afar, we looked to God for meaning and hope. We sought out the peace of Christ that “surpasses all understanding” and placed faith in the resurrecting power of God. Now, those who have no memory of 9/11 will continue to learn to live into the experience of others, communally looking up to God in times of suffering for the world they currently live in. 

Remembering and learning the spiritual lessons of 9/11,

Pastor Alec Brock, Seminary Intern (he,him,his)

One of my favorite bands, Switchfoot, released a new project in August entitled “Interrobang.” In the hype leading up to the release, I avoided any press weighing in about the recording and even steered clear of what the band had written about this fresh batch of songs. I wanted to listen without any expectations.

It is good, very good, but after listening through the whole recording several times, I still had to ask myself, “What is an interrobang?” I had no clue.

Interrobang /inˈterəˌbang/ Noun - a non-standard punctuation mark (‽) indicating a question expressed in an exclamatory manner, as in what are you doing‽.

I don't recall learning this word in an English class, but if I were able to read the transcript of my early parenting days, it would be filled with interrobangs. “What are you doing‽,” “Are you crazy‽,” “Are you trying to hurt yourself‽,” “Did you hear me‽,” and “Are you ready for dinner‽” would play over and over in rapid succession. I was asking a question, but there were also overtones of exclamation, frustration, and urgency.

Punctuation wasn’t included in the original Greek manuscripts of the New Testament, so we can’t know the phrasing and intonations in Bible passages, but I imagine that some of Jesus’ questions would have included an interrobang, if that was a thing in the Ancient Near East First century world.

“Why do you worry about clothes‽” (Matthew 6:28)

“Why do you notice the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the wooden beam in your own eye‽” (Matthew 7:2)

“Do you have eyes and still not see? Ears and not hear‽” (Mark 8:18)

“If you do not believe Moses’ writings how will you believe me‽” (John 5:46-47)

Time and time again, Jesus addressed the people he loved with urgent rhetorical questions, hoping to evoke an emotional and sometimes physical response.

Small children are often frustrated when they want to tell us something, but haven’t developed the linguistic skills, yet. So what happens? A tantrum filled with stomping, screaming, crying or otherwise ensues. As they grow and those moments come, a loving adult might say, “Use your words.” (I’ve found myself saying that to teenagers, frustrated adults, and even myself in moments of anger and frustration - “Use your words, Lowell.”)

These are urgent and exclamatory days. As I read the morning news of a devastating tornado in New Jersey and flash floods killing people in New York City, I want to ask/scream/cry/pray, “What is going on‽” I am looking for some words.

Thankfully, God continues to expand our vocabulary. All day, every day, the Holy Spirit teaches us and reminds us about trust, compassion, empathy, solidarity, faith, forgiveness, love, and hope. We need to embrace and use these words. These are God’s words. These are our words.

Living in trust and hope,

Pastor Lowell

Image by Tim Foreman ©2021

“Leadership is not an affair of the head.  Leadership is an affair of the heart.”   James Kouzes & Barry Posner in The Leadership Challenge, 2017. 

As I was growing up, I had many role models for leadership (the act of influencing/serving others).  I found them in my family, my time in Girl Scouts, the Grange (a national organization for farmers and rural communities), as well as in my “church life.”

I watched my father lead and serve at a local country fair every summer, perform as a union shop representative, and act as local and state officer in the Grange. I also saw him lead within our church family, serving in various office capacities, praying his way through call committees, greeting as an usher, acting as a counter in worship, and helping lead the merger of two parish churches into one congregation.     

Living in a rural community in the south, ‘church life’ was the largest part of my life outside of family.  Strong pastoral leadership was there but more important were the individual members who guided me along a path of service and leadership. This included the volunteers who taught my Sunday school classes and devoted their time every summer for Vacation Bible School or two weeks of herding youth at church camp. The young adults and parents who served as Luther League advisors (e.g. junior and senior high school students) and shepherded visits to other congregations and to regional youth gatherings. There were church council members who allowed teenagers to plan and execute a worship service each year and so many other volunteers who were the foundation of my church family. They offered up their time and talents that helped me to grow into an adult with a desire to serve as they had.

Over the years, I have tried to live their examples of service and leadership out in my personal, professional, and church life. From my undergraduate and graduate days of serving and leading in the communities where I lived, to serving and leading my profession at the state, regional and national level, I have tried to respond to the needs before me. However, it is within my service and leadership roles in my church families that I have always felt the strongest pull. There has been a milieu of roles, including youth leadership when I was a graduate student in Buffalo, choir membership from the time I was a teen to when my voice finally stopped being a soprano, Sunday school teaching, VBS leading and teaching, serving on various church committees, and serving on church councils as member or officer. 

I think that each of these roles has been sustained by the simple idea that leadership is based on the act of serving others. Leadership doesn’t take an advanced degree. It doesn’t require a full-time commitment of an individual’s time. It doesn’t always even require an outgoing personality. What leadership requires is a heart for service, a talent to share, and a call from God that you are needed for a special purpose at a particular time and place. Can you greet members of your church family at the door? Can you assist in helping our children and youth to grow as Christians? All of these questions need to start in your heart.

Lord of Life is at the cusp of starting a new year. Work has already begun in youth and adult ministries, the 2022 mission spending plan, and the continuation of our Share the Light capital campaign. In addition, there are positions to fill for church council at our November congregational meeting. 

Leadership and service at Lord of Life take on many forms. How do you feel called to serve within your church family? Remember that where you serve and how you serve are forms of leadership and that they are affairs of the heart.

Serving with joy and gratitude,

Denise Krallman, council president

It’s that time of year. If your social media feeds are like mine, they are full of photos of kids heading back to school. From little ones holding chalkboards proclaiming their very first day of school, to the nervous smiles of college freshmen crammed in the only space left in the family minivan, students everywhere are preparing for another year. For many, it’s been over a year since they’ve been in a classroom, having opted for virtual learning during what we hope was the worst of the pandemic.

The back to school season is a time when we offer advice and assurances to the students in our lives. As little ones jump out of the car in the drop-off lane, we exclaim one last reminder to “use your words” or “share.” Older students get help gathering homework, instruments, and sports equipment as they dash out the door for the bus or carpool, with a shouted “Have a great day!” Tearful parents steal one last hug in the dormitory doorway, whispering “get enough sleep,” “eat a vegetable once in a while,” or “you’ve got this.”

For as long as my daughter has had her driver’s license, I’ve always told her “love you” and “drive safely” when she heads out to work or a friend’s house. Sometimes it was met with an eye roll or a snort of scorn. Often, she replied with a laugh “I was going to drive recklessly, but since you asked, I won’t.” I finally told her one day that I trust her driving, it’s really just a way to say “I love you” again. Isn’t that really what all those words of advice and encouragement are? They’re just another way to give our beloved kiddos a way to remember how much we love them. 

As a community of faith, we don’t just share these words of affirmation and encouragement with the youngsters in our immediate family. At each baptism, we welcome the newly baptized into the body of Christ, as a fellow family member. It is so gratifying to see all the ways our community supports the children and youth who come through our doors. There are so many folks who share their talents and time to keep our youth programs running: Sunday School teachers, junior high retreat chaperones, Advent craft coordinators, Christmas pageant supervisors, and so many more. Just as important as the many folks who fill formal roles are the many who offer informal support: taking the time between services to share a smile and listen with interest to the latest happenings in a young person’s life. Our building is home to a preschool, tutoring opportunities, and many scout troops. It’s just another way to let kids know that they are important to us; they are important to God. 

Ultimately, we all want to know we are worthy, we matter, we are enough. Yes, we all matter, because we are all God’s children, “children of the same heavenly Father, and fellow workers in the kingdom of God.” God calls each of us by name, equips us for the journey, and sends us out.

Working beside you,

Cara

In between. That’s where we find ourselves: in between summer and fall, in between COVID restrictions loosening and tightening, in between projects as part of our Share the Light capital campaign, and more! Thank you for standing in this liminal space with me and praying for our congregation and community during these days of looking ahead.

The word “liminal” comes from the Latin root, limen, which means “threshold.” Richard Rohr says,

“Liminality is a form of holding the tension between one space and another.” It is the space in between, a crossing over.

As I write, one of my favorite artists, John August Swanson (www.johnaugustswanson.com), is in a liminal space between this life and the next. Following a time of hospice, he is standing on the edge of returning to God.

If you have ever been in my office, then you’ve seen his vibrant painting “Festival of Lights” hovering over my desk. Swanson writing about the painting comments, “It is a dark night with a star-filled sky. Tiny lights are seen on the distant hillsides, gradually becoming figures carrying candles as they come closer to the foreground of the painting… I thought about liturgical processions I had seen. I remembered walking with groups in candlelight for peace in Central America. The symbol of candles shining in the dark night is powerful to me. Star-filled nights are images that help give me a sense of the place we are in the universe.” Our little lights are magnified when the Spirit of God draws us together to love and care for our neighbors and world.

Each year, the ELCA hosts a convention for all those who work in youth ministry. The four-day event includes everyone from full-time youth workers and pastors to volunteer parents and young adults who are passionate about sharing the unconditional love of Jesus with children and teens.

Last winter, youth ministry veteran, Tiger McLuen, offered a session named, “11 Phrases that May Save Your Ministry.” His list included:

Hope is Not a Strategy
Vagueness is Killing the Church
Get Curious
Slow Down
Name the Issue
Love the One You're With
Change is Never Neutral
Make the Circle Bigger
Fight Casual Holiness
It's a Lifestyle - Not a Job!
Always believe in the significance of the insignificant

I’ve been sitting with these phrases for six months now, trying to implement them into my ministry and life, but also keep imagining what the world would look like if we adopted them beyond our church. Think of the transformation that would happen in our own lives, homes, and communities if we enabled these in every facet of our days and stepped deeper into knowing and loving one another?

As we stand at this liminal moment, I pray that we can be fearless bridge-builders. During this season of already, but not yet, this threshold is exhilarating for some and anxiety-inducing for others. We don't know what the coming days hold, but we trust that God has brought us to this moment and promises to walk with us into the uncertain future. To sweeten the deal, God gives us the gift of one another. Let’s stand together in faith, hope, and love.

Living, sharing, and celebrating boldly with all,

Pastor Lowell